Name: Ronan O'Rourke Goes by: Ro Gender: Male Blood Status: Muggleborn Raised in: Muggle Personality: Ronan is a big, dumb lap dog. That's basically the gist of it. Ronan is a beautiful idiot, with a complacent and sunny disposition. He's got big muscles and a desire to please; when you tell him to jump, he doesn't even stop to ask how high. Positive attention is a huge driving force in his life, which means that as long as you give him two thumbs up at the end of the day, he's content to whistle while he works. This boy is happiest when he has a task.
Which isn't to say he always does it well. Picture a puppy bringing you your slippers: they're chewed on and completely covered with drool, but also he looks so incredibly proud of himself for helping that you find yourself saying "good boy." That's a dynamic most people have reproduced with Ro. It takes a hardened heart to tell him off, which is perhaps why he never learned to take criticism well. He wants to listen but Ronan is a little more sensitive than he looks. Yes, he's a big guy and yes, he's a jock, but ... words can hurt more than fists, guys.
Obedient and very much a follower, both on the pitch and off of it, Ronan is totally happy to follow a captain's lead when it comes to Quidditch. This is, in part, because he's so easy-going, and in part because he's ... honestly, a little slow. Give him a play and he can memorize it just fine, but if there's any improvisation required, he drops the ball. With his commitment and strength, though, Ro makes for a damn good player—thank god, because he's hoping to coast through life via athletics. Play a little Quid at Hogwarts, then go pro for a few years? If it hadn't been Quidditch, it would have been football. Nothing else was ever in the cards for him.
He's not really one to worry about ... anything, really. Being a "no worries" boy can sometimes get him into trouble. Big trouble. Firstly, he has absolutely no foresight, and tends to live for whatever makes him the happiest in that moment. Homework? He'll do it later! Someone's mad at him? Time to leave! It's not that he's impulsive, and physically, he's happy to grind away—and even supremely unpleasant tasks can become tolerable with enough of a reward—but truly challenging situations? Anything that requires long term planning or delayed gratification? Hard pass. For Ronan, running 20 tiny errands is more satisfying than achieving one big thing.
And because he's happy to be lead around, he has an extremely reliable tendency to fall in with the wrong crowd. Ronan could live a happy, healthy, productive life if he stuck to only the nicest people around, but he has a vastly overpowering attraction to both electric personalities and instant satisfaction. They like him! They're fun! And he's loyal. So, does he want to skip class and kiss behind the bleachers? Venture out into the castle after curfew? Help TP Hagrid's Hut? Boy, does he ever! Bad choices abound. To extend the dog metaphor way past its logical conclusion: Ronan loves, loves to roll around in trash. The smellier the trash, the better it is.
Talented With/In: Athletics. Loyalty. Quidditch.
Detailed Backstory: Poppy Prescott and Flynn O'Rourke met at work. Poppy was bagging groceries at a convenience shop after school; Flynn, a recent graduate, was a new hire. She trained him on the cash register for exactly two hours before deciding it was a waste of time, and closed up shop early to smoke. They talked about school—Poppy was tired of it, Flynn was glad he was done—and about work and all the things they'd rather be doing. The company, they agreed, was the only decent part of today. Flynn asked if she wanted to hang out after her shift sometime. Poppy, flattered, said yes. Thankfully, their boss never found out about that day's closing time, or else neither would've had a shift to return to. Or, at least, Flynn wouldn't have—Poppy always had a little extra leniency at work, seeing as her parents owned the place.
It wasn't too long before they were dating. There wasn't much to do in the small town they lived in, but by now, both were so used to it that they hardly realized they were bored. Still, TV and movies nourished a small, adventurous spark. Working retail never suited Flynn, who dreamed of heroism and gunfire in the way that boys who've never seen a real war often do. College wasn't right for him and if he had to spend one more day in retail, he was going to blow his brains out, so he spoke to a local military recruiter, who assured him that there was a place for guys like him in the British Army. He'd learn to be brave, to be a man, to be a warrior, etc. Sold on becoming an Armored Corps Officer, Flynn, 20, enlisted without a second thought.
Would've been nice if he'd warned his girlfriend of two years. She'd been sitting on some news herself: she was pregnant, and further along than either of them had guessed. Poppy delivered baby Ronan while Flynn was at The Commissioning Course at the Royal Military Academy. Luckily, she had the support of her parents at home. Things were okay, all things considered, but with her boyfriend off seeing parts unknown, Poppy finally figured out just how ready she was to leave her hometown. She missed Flynn. She hated bagging groceries. Motherhood was hard and she was just 19, in the prime of her life. She needed something else in her life.
When Ronan was 13 months old, she let that restlessness carry her to the very same recruiting office. She wouldn't see combat, but that was more than all right with her. She just wanted to do something bigger than herself. And she wanted to see Flynn. They'd just gotten married that spring and couldn't stand being a part. So, she enlisted too, leaving Ro behind with her parents and setting off to see the world. The two of them came home to see Ronan when they could.
That left Ronan in the care of his grandparents, who raised him more like a son than a grandson. If Ro missed his mom and dad, he never said so—and indeed, his grandparents' attention was more than enough. Poppy and Flynn were satellites that docked every so often to take him out for ice cream and that was pretty cool, but grandma and grandad hung all his athletic achievements and cheered him on at his youth scrimmages and so, they were the ones who secured his loyalty. It was a happy, if unremarkable, childhood ... until he turned 9.
That year, two things happened. The first was that his father died. Flynn, a highly-trained troop leader, was killed at age 29. It caught the whole family by surprise. Ronan didn't go to school for a whole week when he heard. It was confusing, mourning someone who was a father-but-not-a-father, someone who he loved but didn't know. People kept telling him how sorry they were, and he was sorry too, but also he was 9 and death felt a little bit like a very, very long deployment. He wished things were simpler. He wished all these weird things would go away.
They didn't, because the other thing that happened when Ronan turned 9 was that he manifested magic. It was ... incredibly, incredibly strange. His grandparents ignored the letters in the mail for as long as they could, but after a while, they stopped seeming like mean-spirited pranks or some sort of newfangled scam and started seeming like an explanation for the inexplicable occurrences that were happening with frequency around their little miracle. Skepticism relenting, Ronan would be attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
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